


5 4 3 2 1

by WordsmithMusings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Black Hermione Granger, F/M, HP AU, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry is a musician, Hermione and her overprotective snakes, Inspired by Music, M/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Original Character(s), POC Harry Potter, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Song Lyrics, Song fic, anxiety coping techniques, minor Weasley Bashing of a sort, prompt inspired - kinda, supportive slytherins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25083829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsmithMusings/pseuds/WordsmithMusings
Summary: 5 years since she stopped looking for him4 words in the title of her favorite song3 friends out for a fun night2 Jade eyes that she would know anywhere1 more chance if they both darea Harmony AU where Harry disappeared from the Magical World only to go and get himself famous a second time - this time in the Muggle World.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Theodore Nott, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Theo Nott, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 31
Kudos: 195





	5 4 3 2 1

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of months ago, I came across this post in the Harmony & CO (18+) FB group:  
>  _ISO: a Harmony fic where Harry goes totally Muggle and one day ends up shocking Hermione by what he's become. I'm listening to John Mayer right now and thinking. What if this were Harry and he became this kind of singer, the wizarding world having no idea, and Hermione ends up at a concert and is all OMFG WTF. I'm not prompting. I'm just wanting to know if anyone's read a fic with that premise, Harry becaoming a Muggle star or celebrity. I kow there's one where he almost ends up on the Yankee's baseball team. Please and Thank you._
> 
> Immediately my head started running with an idea and over the course of several days, I wrote a fic, but as I listened to one particular song, the mood of the piece changed and I literally pushed myself away from my laptop in tears. It's amazing sometimes, the power that music can have you know? And then life happened and I took most of June off of social media for my own mental health, but I keep feeling drawn to this fic and finally, I just said eff it and begged my emotional support trellis to look it over and help me get it done. 
> 
> So here we are. I've got other things going on, and lots of projects to update this month, but this couldn't wait. 
> 
> It goes without saying, that I don't own JKR or any of the music you're going to read/see. I've created a Spotify playlist just for this fic in case you want to use what I listened to while writing it. (alternatively, you can literally just listen to "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol, 5711 times like I did during the last couple of scenes) https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3plCrKVnYJyl3ODAaWpVU0?si=vEc5_4JwSzK401irDMx7gQ (It's only 12 songs, but for some reason, if you don't have premium, Spotify added a few extras. anything after chasing cars, wasn't my idea. IJS)
> 
> Special shout out to EscapingArtist for her beta work on this and for encouraging me to share it. I hope you enjoy it. xx the Wordsmith

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/189254504@N02/50204488878/in/album-72157715417020977/)

## 5 4 3 2 1

Hermione had spent a great deal of time balancing her life in the Muggle world and the magical world. She had gone to Muggle University - opting to attend school in Cambridge despite fierce opposition from the Weasleys. Kingsley had supported her endeavor but asked specifically that when she was done, she return to the Ministry to use her knowledge to help bridge the gap between the two worlds. 1st year Hermione would have been thrilled by the idea, even just-post-war Hermione would have thought it a worthy goal. But, It wasn't something Hermione was keen to do any longer - not with her best friend having disappeared into the night, less than six months after the war. Perhaps that's why she threw herself into her studies, she'd do almost anything to avoid fighting with Ron and ignore the hole in her heart where Harry used to be. 

Still, when she had finished Muggle university, she had taken an apprenticeship through the Ministry, along with pursuing the first of three masteries. It was overkill, she knew, but she loved working, and thanks to family inheritance and her status as a war heroine, she had money to do whatever she damn well pleased. Despite agreeing to work for the Ministry she refused to move back to London. Instead, she had a quiet flat in Suffolk, near Cambridge, and the central floo hub that she could use to get to the Leaky or the Ministry when she needed to. Usually, this was when Kingsley needed her for one thing or another as she had become a liaison of sorts between the two worlds - even using it as her official title on more than one occasion. It was situations like this that made her thankful she was a witch - the ability to travel so quickly cleared up hours of her day to use as she pleased. Hermione found it surprisingly easy to lie to her Muggle friends, who thought she was commuting long hours, and instead spend time on her own studying and reading or just relaxing and sleeping. Of course, fake long commutes couldn't get her out of everything - like the concert at Hampton Court Palace that Willow and Phee, her roommates from college had told her she was going to. It was fine, really, Hermione enjoyed the sound of the headlining band for that night - even though she thought the band name R.A.W. was complete shite. 

R.A.W. was a fun indie band with a great acoustic sound and had some great singles for a group, primarily known as a cover band. Their song "3 Seconds to London" was often stuck in Hermione's head these days, as she flooed from one location to the next, and there was something so comforting about the lead singer's voice. She'd never seen him, listening instead on her iPod or the radio, but she enjoyed the way his voice seemed to wrap around her soul. 

It was a sign of how popular the band had become that they were one of the key headliners at the popular music festival, she thought as her alarm went off. 

Rising from the window seat of her comfy cottage, Hermione headed to her bedroom to get ready. Though it was summer in London, she opted to wear her favorite jeans - the ones that hugged the curves she had finally developed after years of regular meals, and an oversized grey t-shirt that hung off her shoulder just so.

The tee showed off the simple tattoo that ran along her collarbone _wingardium leviosa_. She told everyone who asked that it was Latin for float like a feather and smirked to herself often that no one got it. 

An hour later, Hermione stepped out of the Hampton Court train station and into the warm embrace of her friends. The trio chatted pleasantly as they walked, following the flow of the crowd easily as they did so. "Hey, so we have a surprise for you," exclaimed Phee upon as they neared the entrance to the event.

"And what's that?" asked Hermione, smiling at the guard as Phee handed over their tickets.

"We got backstage passes!" both girls proclaimed excitedly. 

Their exuberance was contagious, and Hermione smiled excitedly with them - after all, backstages passes were quite the get. She talked them into watching the opening acts on the lawn - citing wanting to hear the music versus the chaos of backstage as one band bled into another. It was a fair request considering the picturesque setting of Hampton Court Palace, and the trio enjoyed the music and atmosphere on the lawn for a bit.

As the night progressed and the opening act gave way to a second and then a third, Hermione allowed herself to be navigated backstage to take a spot to listen to the show with a promise of meeting the band afterward. She listened with half an ear as Willow and Phee plotted which band member they were hoping to shag - more of a lark on Willow's part as she was happily engaged to one of the most wonderful people Hermione had ever met. The two were disgustingly and alarmingly perfect for each other. Phee was far more of a free spirit and open-minded about sex in general. While Hermione was sure Phee had a plan to go home with one of the guys in R.A.W. it was clear she was far more likely to go home with the female lead singer of the band that had opened for them - the English rose having already winked and blushed prettily every time the two made eye contact. 

Hermione herself was quite content to enjoy the night for what it was and then head home - alone - to her two cats and her books. Tomorrow was Sunday after all, and her big plans included laying in her garden and soaking up the sun while reading the latest novel she had picked up. 

It wasn't until the band was halfway through their set, singing "3 Seconds to London" no less, that she noticed the lead singer. Really noticed him. His tan skin and the smattering of tattoos his tee-shirt showed off were new as was the beard which, goddess above, made him look like sex on a stick. His dark curls wound down past his ears with a few strands dropping just so in front of his eyes. It was still wild and messy, but in that artful way, that made her long to card her fingers through it. It was when he glanced over at one point in the song - eyes just skimming along that she felt her breath catch. There was no mistaking those green eyes. 

"Son of a bitch," she huffed as he spoke to the crowd after the song ended, and she focused her attention entirely on him. His voice was now absolutely unmistakable to her. The tinge of Surrey mixed with the Highlands that every Hogwarts student seemed to develop over certain words - a testament to McGonagall's influence on them she was sure. But there it was, mixed in with a voice husky from use and smoking. 

She waited patiently off to the side when the set and encore ended. Hermione didn't give in to the urge to throw herself at him or smack him the way she wanted to. Instead, she waited with her friends. Waited for their turn for the meet n greet, walking over calmly - more calmly than Hermione thought was capable of really, as her insides turned and twisted at the sight of him. The man she hadn't seen in nearly a decade, who had gone and gotten himself famous in the Muggle world after leaving behind his fame in the magical one. 

Hermione let Phee and Willow gush, and she offered her hand and smiled when the bassist and drummer offered. When he glanced over Phee's head and met her eyes, she was prepared. Prepared for the way his eyes widened in shock and the way he paled slightly, even as Phee was pulling her forward, "And this is my best friend-"

"Hermione," his voice wrapped around her name is a combination of pain and pleasure, and Hermione offered him a small smile.

"Hello, Harry."

Around them, his bandmates and her friends glanced between them. They were trying to piece together what they were seeing, even as the photographer was asking them to turn and smile for the camera. The group crowded closer together, and Hermione felt pushed into his side. His arm came up to wind around her shoulder in the way he had done since they were 11. She smiled prettily for the camera, knowing Phee would order a copy and blast it everywhere she could. Turning as they finished back to her former friend, she offered him a sad smile, "It's nice to see you, Harry. You look well."

"And you," he murmured, his eyes drifting over her. "I-" but his voice faltered, and he rubbed the back of his neck, a sign of anxiousness she remembered all too well. Smiling again at him, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Take care, Harry," she whispered, meeting his eyes briefly before stepping back, allowing herself to be swept up in the curious looks and waggling eyebrows of her friends. She didn't spare him a second glance as they made their way through the crowd waiting for their turn to take a picture, even though she so desperately wanted to. Keeping her head high and her face resolutely forward even as the tears threatened to fall.

🎶🎶🎶

_Look into my eyes, and you will see_

_what you mean to me_

_Search your heart_

_Search your soul_

_when you find me there, you'll search no more_

_don't tell me_

_it's not worth trying for_

_can't tell me it's not worth dying for_

_you know it's true_

_everything I do_

_I do it for you_

_look into your heart_

_and you will find_

_there's nothing left there to hide_

_take me as I am_

_take my life_

_I will give it all I would sacrifice_

_don't tell me it's not worth fighting for_

_I can't help it_

_there's nothing I want more_

_you know it's true_

_everything I do_

_I do it for you_

_there's no love_

_like your love_

_and no other_

_could give more love_

_there's no way_

_unless you're there_

_all the time_

_all the way yeah...*_

Harry groaned as the words of the song rushed over him. "Stupid fucking song," he grumbled as his chest constricted painfully. What were the odds, he wondered, of this being the newest cover his bandmates had chosen the day after seeing Hermione again? Everything about it. Absolutely every single bloody thing about the song made him think of her. Of the life they had lived as teenagers, the sacrifices they had made, and why he had walked away after the war was over. Hell, the song was from 1991, from the first year he had gone to Hogwarts and met her.

She had been a massive part of why he left. She and Ron had started seeing each other, finally giving in to whatever had been building between them through all those years. While he was happy for them, there was deep-seated jealousy that he couldn't shake. When Harry came to grips with its source, when he and Ginny hadn't worked out, suddenly everything was too close-too small. He just needed more, different, free. 

So, he had left.

Harry Potter had reinvented himself simply as Harry James, a Muggle from nowhere with nothing. He had gone to night school, studying for his A levels alternating between working at a coffee shop during the day and a student at night. All of his spare time was spent catching up on the Muggle things Harry had missed - movies, music, pop culture. He had simply blended in and disappeared, no longer daunted with the pressure of fame and being the boy who had lived and died and lived again. 

He had fallen into music as a refuge, a harbor against the storm of his nightmares and darkness. Learning to play the guitar had come to him quickly, the piano too. When his coffee shop began to hold an open mic night, Harry was awed. He sat intrigued by the guts and audacity of many of those that came in and bared their souls. There was a vulnerability to it that Harry admired. He asked his friend John to tell him more about it, and John had gone to great lengths to share what and why open mics were such a big deal before encouraging Harry to join in. "Just bring your guitar and sing. Girls like that. Or guys. I'm not really sure what you're into," he added with a playful wink, "Though I'm willing to help you find out."

Harry had laughed, "I'm pretty sure I'm into girls more than boys, but I did go to boarding school and spend seven years with a lot of blokes. I've had more than one confusing dream about a couple of them throughout the years."

"So what you're saying is there's a chance," John had replied good naturally before helping the next customer with their order. It was a few more months before Harry got up the courage to perform at open mic night, though he had taken a few romps in the hay with John in the meantime. And while Harry could say that the experience was enjoyable, it didn't feel much different than being with Ginny, leaving Harry to wonder if maybe he was broken instead of bent. 

"Incapable then," he had huffed when John had told him he was too harsh on himself. "I had a rough childhood, and some scars heal but never go away." He rubbed the scar on his forehead absently, and John had understood enough to let it go. 

But "incapable" only described the possibility of a relationship, not music. Harry was good, very, VERY good, as it turned out, and wasn't long before Harry was asked to perform regularly at open mic nights. While he was good at stripping down songs and playing them - adding his own twist, he was rubbish at writing his own. So when John introduced him to Aaron, who introduced him to Finn. Harry went from a guy with a guitar to the lead singer and guitarist of a trio, and thus, R.A.W. was born.

It was a joke amongst his bandmates that Harry stayed so level headed. Even keeping his job at the coffee shop as a side gig. "No one recognizes me there," he confessed with a shrug. "I'm just a guy making your latte that kinda looks like that one guy who sings in a band." It was self-deprecating for sure, but it gave him something normal to hold on to. Normal. 

Wouldn't his Aunt Petunia be so proud to see him being so normal now, he thought with a smirk as the track began again. Taking a deep breath, he shoved all his thoughts away, focusing only on the memory of Hermione's face from the previous day. Of her soft smile and chocolate brown eyes. Of the brush of her skin under his arm as she tucked into his side the way she always had. 

🎶🎶🎶

Hermione ignored her friends and their demands to know what transpired between her and the hot lead singer of R.A.W. "We went to school together," Hermione said dismissively. It was, of course, not enough for either Phee or Willow, but Hermione simply wouldn't divulge any more than that, and so they were forced to let it go. Hermione wasn't at all surprised when Phee sent her a copy of the photo they had taken together, and she did her damnedest to ignore their comments about how good they looked together, how natural, and not at all awkward they seemed. Of course, Hermione had felt uncomfortable, incredibly so, but she had done a great job of hiding it. It was a few days later when Theo and Draco came over for their weekly dinner that she handed them the picture and waited for the shit storm to happen.

Hermione did a remarkable job keeping her two worlds separate, but she had been unable to keep these two out of her life once they had weaseled their way in. It helped that they had sought the anonymity the Muggle world brought post-war and that Hermione had been willing to help them find their way in it. A friendship had formed during 8th year, and now, however, many years later, she counted the two Slytherins as her closest friends. Seeing both of their faces as she handed them the picture reaffirmed what Hermione had felt. They were the only two that knew she had never given up on the Boy Wonder, but to see him, looking fit and happy, was a shock to both their systems.

"What in the ever-loving fuck," proclaimed Draco.

Hermione snorted, "That was pretty much my reaction."

"What is this from?" asked Theo.

"The concert I went to with Phee and Willow the other day. He's the lead singer of the band I told you about."

"He is not!" exclaimed Theo. 

Hermione nodded, taking a long swallow of her cocktail. "This vodka is not nearly strong enough," she murmured.

"I'll be damned," hummed Theo, refilling her glass with an extra splash of vodka at the end.

"Do you mean to tell me he went and got himself famous a second go-round?" scoffed Draco.

Hermione giggled. "It's ridiculous, isn't it?" 

"How in the world did he manage that? What name does he go by now?"

"Harry James," murmured Hermione.

"For fucks sake, are you kidding me?"

"Nope," replied Hermione, popping the P for extra emphasis. 

"I mean it's brilliant when you think about it. Who the hell is out there in the Muggle world looking for Harry James? Without the Potter, it's just a normal every day Muggle name, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded. "It is. And it's worked. I never thought just to look up _Harry._ Well, I mean, I have, but there's a Crown Prince with the same name, and god knows how many other celebrities with the name in the U.K. Harry is a fucking common name."

"In the Muggle world," pointed out Theo.

Hermione sighed, "Yes, in the Muggle world."

"Cause it's not in the magical world," added Draco.

"Yes, Dragon, I know." 

Draco wrinkled his nose at her and tossed the picture to the side. The friendship between them had been a precarious thing until one day they had just clicked, and everything about their childhood rivalry and adolescence had fallen away. It helped that his father had been kissed and that he was able to come out against all the blood purity nonsense of his childhood. After that, Draco coming out as gay had been nothing. Still, Hermione had been there, helped him, and Theo navigate the Muggle world, and they had, in turn, helped her navigate the magical world. Their friendship had been rough initially, but in the years since, they had become closer than she had ever been to the weasel-bee. So when Draco knelt in front of her, his hands on her knees and concern in his eyes, Hermione knew he could ask her honestly if she was okay and that she'd tell him the truth. When her chocolate eyes met his grey ones, he knew that Hermione was angry and hurt and so confused without her saying a single word. 

"It's okay to be upset with him", he told her, "and it's okay to want to hex him." Hermione giggled at that, before absently wiping at a few tears that trickled down her cheeks. 

"He looked good," she whispered, "happy."

"Was he surprised to see you?" asked Theo, shifting so he was sitting next to her on the couch. 

Hermione snorted. "So surprised." 

"I'm surprised you didn't hex him", teased Draco. "Punch him in the face." Hermione giggled again and didn't move as he wiped a tear from her face. 

"What do you want to do now, love?" asked Theo. "You've been looking for him for a long time."

" And now I've found him."

"Now you've found him," agreed Draco. "So, now what?" 

Hermione cleared her throat and took another deep sip of her drink. "I do what I did five years ago - I let him go."

She turned her gaze to the picture on the coffee table, so she missed the looks that Draco and Theo exchanged. She may have been able to push Phee and Willow away, but not the two of them. They had the information, and the ability to go track down her wayward friend, and dammit it all if they were just going to let her cry and not fix it. Even if it meant going after the Boy Wonder themselves if necessary.

🎶🎶🎶

She had just needed to breathe. You wouldn't think it would be so hard to do. Still, it was impossible. Her body should be able to do it. In and out. In and out.

_Name five things you can see_

_Four things you can touch_

_Three things you can hear_

_Two things you can smell_

_One thing you can taste_

Hermione took a deep breath. She just needed to remember to breathe. That's all she had to do. _Breathe. Hermione. Breathe. In and out._

Gazing around the Muggle street, she was walking up she began to count off five things she could see. 

The couple coming out of Tescos. 

The woman hailing a cab. 

The dog crossing the street off lead. 

The woman pushing a pram. 

Running through her mind, Hermione counted. One. Two. Three. Four. One more, one more. Glancing to her left she noted the bright flowers outside a market. Five. _Okay. Hermione. Breathe. In and out._

Four things you can touch. Immediately Hermione stuck her hand in her pockets. One hand grasping her spare wand, the other wrapping around the communication mirror she always kept on her. Taking another breath, Hermione jangled her wrist in her pocket, feeling the weight of the bracelet, which held her dimensional store against her wrist. The comforting weight of the mithril reassuring her. "One more one more one more", she chanted to herself, before feeling a breeze caress her cheek. Closing her eyes momentarily, Hermione sighed. Four. The breeze was warm and soft against her skin. 

"Watch yourself, lass," came a voice just behind her, and Hermione apologized as she realized she had stopped amid the busy sidewalk. The sound reminded her to keep going on her list. Three things you can hear. She began to use the man's voice but decided against it. She was taking a moment to focus on her surroundings. 

The laughter pouring out of the pub to her right. 

The horn of the taxi pulling out into traffic from the curb. 

A shrill woman answering her phone at the light. 

Hermione huffed, well, that wasn't pleasant. She was sure she was supposed to focus on something at least enjoyable but quickly dismissed the thought, hearing her therapist Dr. Durrell telling her it didn't matter what it was as long as it was real. "Real real real" chanted Hermione, _In and out. In and out._

Allowing the crowd to guide her, Hermione continued straight at the next light before making the following right. Two things you can smell, she told herself. Right then. Taking a deep breath, Hermione smiled. 

Rain. 

London and it's bloody blessed rain. 

Thank goodness for that, she thought. The next thing she smelled was coffee. 

Delicious, wonderful coffee.

It was highly un-British of her to be so fond of it, but she didn't care. Pausing briefly, she turned, deciding to enter into the small coffee shop, the name slightly familiar to her. 

The last thing, something you can taste would be a breeze here. 

She went simple, ordering a vanilla latte and an individual Victoria Sponge. She wasn't totally un-British after all, and Victoria Sponge was one of her favorites. The wizarding world just couldn't compare on the pastry front, she thought ruefully, as she gazed at the pastries on offer. She was sorely tempted to pick up a lemon tart as well, but she decided to start small. She handed the man her cash, dropping the change in the tip jar before maneuvering to a table in the back corner. It put her out of the traffic of people coming in and out, but with a clean line of sight to the door and a lovely view of a riotous gathering of flowers in a window box across the street. 

Hermione smiled to herself. The tension was easing from her mind as she continued to focus on the hot beverage cupped within her hands. Hermione wasn't sure what had brought on her panic attack today. It wasn't unusual for her to have them when she was in some areas of London, but this one had hit her so unexpectedly. Still, it had led her to this delightful spot. Glancing out the window, Hermione went through her list again, connecting with one thing at the moment to ground herself. 

One thing you can see, she looked around the shop, her eyes settling on the busy workers behind the counter, smiling as they worked. 

One thing you can touch, closing her eyes, she ran her hands absently along the smooth wood chair she was sitting in.

One thing you can hear, everything but the soft acoustic guitar being played over the speakers fell away, and Hermione smiled. 

One thing you can smell. Taking the cup in her hand, Hermione closed her eyes, steadying herself. She inhaled deeply, a warmth filling her soul as the smell of damp earth in the Forest of Dean with a hint of an autumn breeze and ozone permeated her senses.

Liting her cup to her lips, Hermione licked her lips in anticipation of the one thing you can taste. She took a deep sip of the perfectly blended cup of coffee in her hands and sighed as the liquid traveled through her body, warming her from the inside out. 

Savoring the moment, Hermione felt the contentedness shatter as her brain caught up. Wait. WHAT. One thing she could smell? The Forest of Dean, an autumn breeze. Ozone. Her mind whirred at the implication, and she could feel her hands starting to shake as she heard the chair across from her shift slightly. Opening her eyes, she felt her heart stutter against her chest as a pair of jade green eyes greeted her. "Mind if I join you?"

Hermione merely nodded. He was, after all, already sitting across from her. "What are you doing here?" she asked, setting her cup down before her trembling hands dropped it. 

"I work here," Harry admitted sheepishly. 

"Of all the gin joints in all the world," she muttered. 

"I didn't figure you for a Casablanca fan."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "I'm not a fan of Casablanca, but I am a fan of Bogart."

Harry smirked at her. She felt her communication mirror grow hot in her pocket, and she held her finger up, asking him to wait for a moment. Hermione pulled the compact from her pocket before casting a wandless muffalito with a twirl of her finger. Taking a deep breath, she opened the mirror.

"Hey, are you alright? Where are you? Your appointment ended almost an hour ago."

Hermione gave a watery smile. "Dray, I'm fine. I just needed a walk afterward."

Draco eyed her critically through the mirror. "Are you alright? Where are you?"

"I'm in a cafe in Muggle London."

"And you're safe?"

"Yes, perfectly."

"What's the matter then? Your bracelet is warm."

Hermione cursed under her breath, having forgotten about the charm Draco insisted be on her bracelet. "Just a bit of emotional upheaval."

"Do you want to talk about it? What did Dr. D say?"

"Stop," she said suddenly, her eyes flicking to Harry's momentarily before she continued, "I'm not alone, and I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Who are you with?" Draco asked, concerned.

"You'll never believe me," she murmured, turning the mirror. Grey eyes met green, and she pressed her lips together at both men's reactions to each other - Harry's eyes widening comically and the litany of swear words from Draco through the mirror.

"Malfoy, are you fucking kidding me?" exclaimed Harry as Hermione took the mirror back.

"How the hell did that happen?" demanded Draco at the same time. 

"I'm not even sure what that means," she replied to Harry with a roll of her eyes before turning her attention to Draco. "Chance."

Draco raised one aristocratic eyebrow at her and gave her a pointed look. "We'll talk about it later, alright?" She gave him a curt nod. "Fine," he huffed, "love you."

"Love you," she replied only to glance up as Harry sucked a breath in sharply.

"What the hell are you doing with Malfoy? Are you dating him?"

"What? No. We are not together."

"You just said you loved each other."

"And?" demanded Hermione, forgetting to close her mirror.

"And? Are you sleeping with him?"

Hermione snorted, "Harry, you would have a better chance of sleeping with Draco than I would."

"What?"

Hermione stifled a giggle, "He's gay, Harry. Draco likes men."

"I'm also very much in love, but thanks for asking," chimed in Draco from the mirror.

"Oh, hang up, Prat," huffed Hermione with a laugh.

"But I wanted to threaten Potter first," whined Draco as she picked the mirror up again.

Harry scoffed, and Hermione's eyes narrowed before she turned the mirror towards Harry again.

"Listen here, you twit. If you hurt her, she'll hex you, and she's got diplomatic immunity in both worlds so no one will likely even think to arrest her."

Harry blew out a surprised breath, "Wait, you're not threatening me yourself. You're just telling me she can kick my ass - I already knew that. "

"Reminding you, yes. And, of course, I'm not going to threaten you directly. One, Hermione doesn't need me to defend her. Two, I'm a Slytherin. Three, I will find you and put you back together after she destroys you so that I can have a go myself before I put you in a hole and dance on your grave. Are we clear?"

"Fuck fine, yes," huffed Harry. His eyes followed the movement on the other side of the mirror, and his eyes widened as his eyes met Theo's.

"Christ, Nott too", bristled Harry glancing from Theo to Hermione.

"They came as a set," sniffed Hermione, sipping her coffee.

"Yes, every girl needs a pair of snakes at her beck and call," replied Theo smugly, his attention entirely on Harry. "Listen well, Harry James." Harry winced at his Muggle alias being used. "You WERE her best friend, and I've tried to stand in your stead - not replace you mind, but she is like my sister. I love her and cherish her and appreciate her in a way you never did." Theo held up his hand as Harry made to interject, "No. You don't get to talk yet. If you hurt her, I will ruin you in ways that dark bastard never dreamed of, and I'll do it in both worlds." Theo straightened. "Better?"

Harry nodded. "Better." He quickly passed the mirror back to Hermione

"Are you done now?"

"We have reservations for dinner in two hours. If you're not here, we're telling Kingsley who you've been cavorting with."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Don't you threaten me, Theodore."

"I can and I will," he replied gravely. "I love you," he added after a pause, "Be safe."

Hermione huffed. "I love you too, you overprotective snake."

"If you're not going to make dinner, just message us love," chimed in Draco, pushing Theo aside. "And do not sleep with him."

Hermione's face turned bright red as she closed the mirror. Thankfully Harry seemed oblivious as usual.

"You seem really close to them," he mused. 

Hermione cleared her throat." I am. I was a mess 8th year, and so were there. We just sort of fell into it. Found once we stripped house squabbles aside that we had a lot in common." She shrugged. "They came to Muggle University with me. Helped me sort out everything with my parents. Made sure I went to therapy." She shrugged again. "They were there for me, and we just clicked."

Harry winced. "Right. And I was gone. Where was Ron?"

Hermione huffed. "Harry, you have to realize that the only thing Ron and I ever had in common was you. And without you…" she frowned into her cup. "We dated for a month before it all went wrong. I only see George regularly now. Fleur and I get together once every few months, and Charlie and I have become owl pals."

"And the rest?"

"Ginny and I don't speak. She blamed me for you leaving and when I couldn't find you." She shrugged again as if it was the only she could do. "Molly became less interested in me once it was clear Ron and I weren't going to be a thing. I see Percy at the Ministry, and he's cordial. Arthur and I have lunch once every few months - usually at Kingsley's request, for work."

Harry nodded, "I guess I should've figured when I didn't recognize the two women you were with the other day. Do you... do you talk to anyone else?"

"I'm close to Dean and Neville. Dean is with Blaise Zabini, and Neville is with Pansy Parkinson." Harry blinked at her in disbelief. "Pretty much the same response we had initially. Something happened between them while we were on the run, and 8th year gave them a chance to test it out."

"Wow." Harry cleared his throat. "I thought he liked Luna."

"He did a little, I think, but Luna preferred Lily Moon." Hermione smiled. "They had a little girl a couple of years ago—some fling they had with Rolf Scamander while half away across the world. Dean and Neville have kids now too. Beautiful little families."

"And what about you?"

She met his gaze. "What about me?"

"Is this the part where you tell me you've got a boyfriend? Cormac or Seamus or" he swallowed as if he was gagging on bile "Zacharias."

Hermione kicked him under the table. "Ew. That's the best you think I can do? Really? I pulled down an international Quidditch star in 4th year, remember?"

Harry's eyes flashed in anger. "I remember. So Viktor then."

"Viktor is a delightful shag but in a different place in his life. He's ready to settle down and needs someone who can travel and support his career. None of which I wanted to do right now."

"I didn't need to know you fucked Krum, Mi."

"Probably like I didn't need to know you fucked Ginny. But here we are."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Wasn't expecting you to know that."

"I got to go through a fake pregnancy scare with her when you disappeared, so there was a lot I was hoping not ever to know."

Harry paled, "Ginny was pregnant."

"No," Hermione stated emphatically with a shake of her head, "she was _pretending_ to be."

"Why would she do that?"

"Because she hoped that if you heard that on the wireless, you would come home, and when you didn't and time went by, she had to either keep lying or tell the truth."

"I wouldn't have expected her to tell the truth," admitted Harry.

"No one else did either, so she got called in front of the Wizengamot and hit with a truth spell. She was almost imprisoned for attempted line theft when the truth came out. Only her status as a war heroine protected her. Still, she blamed me, and you were gone so," Hermione shrugged her shoulders in that way she had been doing the whole time, and Harry wondered absently where she had picked the habit up from.

"I'm sorry," he said at last when the silence stretched out between them. 

Hermione wiped absently at a rogue tear. "You should be."

"I'm," Harry huffed. "It's my last shift here today. Well, it was. I clocked out 5 minutes before you sat down. I... I don't suppose I have any right to ask this of you, but can I take you to dinner?"

Hermione shook her head no. "I have dinner plans with the boys tonight as you heard."

"I did." His shoulders sagged, and he looked down at the table dejectedly. 

"But I guess we could always try tomorrow or the next day. If you can fit me into your busy schedule, that is." 

"I'd like that", added Harry, "anything you can give me."

Hermione eyed him skeptically for a moment and nodded. "Alright, then."

🎶🎶🎶

"Lunch, not dinner."

"Definitely not dinner. That means date. Lunch is business."

"And public, so you don't do something you regret. Like snog him, or hex him, or both."

"But not too public. Goddess knows if the press gets a hold of this..."

Hermione idly twirled the pasta around her fork, listening as Draco and Theo debated just how her grand summit with Harry should go. 

Suddenly, a raven alighted next to her elbow, spectral and wispy, but his familiar voice came from it. "I realized we didn't decide how to contact each other." She could hear the embarrassed huff of laughter. "I'm done in the studio at 12 tomorrow. Maybe we could meet after for lunch? Say at 1 pm? They'll be people around but no press so..." His voice faltered "Anyway, Patronus or text me" He then rattled off a mobile number and an address for Camden borough in London.

"Interesting," Theo murmured as the raven faded from view. "I wonder why his Patronus changed."

Draco met Hermione's eyes as she swallowed thickly. There were only a few reasons a Patronus changed, she would know. She'd researched it thoroughly when her own had changed during 8th year. 

🎶🎶🎶

The door opened almost as soon as she knocked. Her senses were assaulted by the smell of curry, fish, and chips and maybe Thai food. Harry moved to hug her, then dropped his hands awkwardly to his side. "Uh, right," he said, rubbing the back of his neck "I wanted to have lunch ready for you. Then I realized I didn't know what you liked anymore. I figured pilfered eggs, boiled mushrooms, and burnt fish weren't really your preference." For a moment, she could hear the crackle of the fire and the smell of dinner in their camp before she shook her head and refocused. "So," he continued and gestured at the table that was littered with takeaway containers from at least five different places. "Hopefully, you see something you like."

Her heart twisted painfully, "I sure do," she thought, shrugging out of her coat. Out loud, she said, "You could have asked."

Harry sighed, "I could have," he admitted, "But I wanted to know, and when I figured out that I didn't..." his voice trailed off.

Hermione felt her heart stutter, and she reached out and squeezed his hand. "It's okay. It's been a long time. I'm sure we've both changed." 

Harry nodded. "I missed you," he said softly, "every day, and seeing you it's just brought up how big of a hole I've had in my life without you in it." Hermione felt her knees weaken, and a strangled sound escaped her throat as she squeezed his hand again. 

She opened her mouth to speak before a tear slid down her cheek. "Mi," Harry whispered, wiping at the tear, his heart-wrenching. "I hate it when you cry." 

"You have to know that I looked for you. I never gave up looking for you. And here you were, in the fucking Muggle world, just as fucking famous as you were in the wizarding world, and still, I couldn't find you," she added with a huff.

Harry laughed. "I looked at every alias you could imagine, and every time I thought, 'Hermione will think of that.'"

"And so in the end, you just went with Harry James."

The smile he gave her was brilliant. "Yeah, but you'll never believe me when I tell you why."

"Try me," she replied, crossing her arms across her chest.

"You", he stated softly. "The way you used to say my name when I irritated you or annoyed you, or you didn't know what else to say. You would get this look on your face, and there was a tone in your voice". Harry shrugged. "It made me think of you. Kept you close." 

Hermione swallowed and dropped her arms. "Well, that's better than what I thought you were going to say." 

Harry held the chair out for her, and he sat down across from her. "And what did you think I was going to say?"

"I thought you were going to say it had to do with the way I said your name when I came."

His mouth dropped open, and he smirked at the blush that tinged her caramel skin. "Well, there was that too, but I didn't think you'd appreciate me telling you how much I missed the way you purred under me before lunch." 

Hermione blushed deeper. "Harry James," she hissed scandalized.

"Not quite like that, but close," he added with a wink.

"You're incorrigible."

"You missed me."

"I did." She dropped her eyes as he smiled again at her. "So food?" 

"Yeah. Dig in. Whatever you want."

🎶🎶🎶

Lunch passed in a series of awkward pauses, small talk, and comments on the food. "This was bloody awful," Harry said once they finally finished.

Hermione giggled. "I have had less awkward meals with Lucius Malfoy, yes." Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "What? This was still more comfortable than my last meal at the Burrow."

"Seriously?"

Hermione nodded. "It was awful. I mean, just horrific." 

"Go on then. Tell me." 

Huffing Hermione launched into the story of her most awkward and uncomfortable - and subsequently, last meal at the Burrow. By the end, Harry was holding his side, and tears were streaming down his face as he laughed hysterically. 

"It's not funny!" Protested Hermione. "It was so fucking awful. And George wasn't helping."

"Of course, George wasn't helping!" squeaked Harry between belly laughs. "It was George."

Hermione heaved a heavy sigh, rolling her eyes at him, but Harry wasn't fooled. There was a smile playing at the corner of her lips and her eyes twinkling. 

A knock at the door broke them out of their reverie, and Harry sighed as he stood. He was crossing to the door when a flurry of a woman entered, a steady stream of words Hermione could not understand pouring out of her mouth. The attractive blonde paused as she saw Hermione, her eyes growing wide before she whirled around to Harry. "Who the fuck is she?"

Hermione bristled at the woman's tone, and Harry didn't appreciate it either as he straightened to his full height and glared down at her. "She is none of your business, and I don't appreciate your tone."

"You have things you're supposed to be doing. And you're not supposed to be," she sneered at Hermione in an excellent imitation of a younger Draco Malfoy. "Entertaining." Hermione merely raised a brow. She wasn't threatened in the slightest by this woman. The woman eyed Hermione's clothes, the combination of a long sundress and sandals too casual for her and sniffed again before raising her nose as if to dismiss her. Hermione rolled her eyes behind the woman's back much to Harry's delight. She was sure the woman was used to being considered the most beautiful woman in the room, with her willowy frame and perfectly coiffed long blonde hair. Still, none of it impressed Hermione, who had stood next to beauties like Fleur Delacour, Luna Lovegood, Narcissa Malfoy, and her best friend, Phoebe. This woman was as classless and fake as the blonde hair on her head, and there was no way Hermione would allow herself to be dismissed.

Harry's voice brought her back to the moment, "I am allowed to 'entertain' anyone, I damn well please Dawn, and she is my oldest friend in the world. You will not disparage her."

Just as she was about to speak, the door opened once again, and a new voice changed the conversation, "Oh, so sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. Oh! Hermione!"

"Alex!" Hermione replied, side-stepping Dawn with a look, "Good to see you!"

"And you," he added, bowing his head slightly before kissing her proffered hand. 

She laughed, "I thought I told you to stop that."

"Yes, but it feels wrong somehow not to." He glanced around the room. "Well this seems tense and awkward, Am I interrupting something?" he added, seeing the lunch spread.

"Yes," stated Harry just as Dawn said, "No." He glared at the woman who placed her hands on her hips. "No," she said again, glaring at Harry as she did so. "You are not interrupting Mr. Walsh; Harry is all too happy to meet with you and do that interview," she turned her attention back to Harry, "as we discussed earlier this week."

"And as I said then", Harry began, "I'm happy to sit for an interview" he turned his attention back to Alex, who still had not let go of Hermione's hand, "but not today. I was in the midst of a lunch," he paused and met Hermione's eyes. "Thing."

"A Thing?" asked Alex, glancing between them, "like a date?" 

Hermione rolled her eyes as Dawn huffed and repeated no while Alex looked practically giddy at the idea. 

"Harry was entertaining" she waved her hands towards Hermione dismissively, "but now she's done."

This time it was Hermione who glared, "She also has a name, and you will not continue to dismiss me or speak to me as if I am less than a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe."

"Listen, darling," purred Dawn, "I'm sure you're invested in whatever scheme you've worked out, and I applaud you. I do - for whatever you've done to get yourself this charming little luncheon with Mr. James, but it's time for you to go."

"Are you done speaking, or would you like to continue to embarrass yourself?" asked Hermione cooly, one eyebrow arched.

"Do you not have any idea who you're speaking to?" asked Alex in shock as he looked between Hermione and Dawn.

"She burst in and began making assumptions," Hermione informed him icily. "She didn't bother with introductions." 

Alex chuckled delightedly next to her. "I'll give you a free pass on any of my questions for a year if you let me tell her."

Hermione's head tilted back as she laughed loudly. "Oh, that's a deal. I already know several questions I'm going to ban," she told him matter of factly. 

"Ha. I didn't say you couldn't answer all of them. Just some of them." 

Dawn stomped her foot to regain their attention. "Excuse me, but can we get on with this? Some of us have things to do."

"Oh, this is going to be so good," hummed Alex rubbing his hands together gleefully.

"Obviously, Mr. James knows who you are," began Alex with a wink to Hermione, "so I'll skip that introduction." He cleared his throat as he stepped in front of Hermione dramatically.

"Dawn Smith, may I introduce to you Lady Hermione Dagworth-Granger, Heiress of the House of Ross." Dawn paled dramatically as Alex rolled off her title. "She is also the Liaison to the Prime Minister and works in the Department of International Cooperation for the Government. I had tea with her and several dignitaries last week as part of the announcement of one of the new charity organizations the Crown has started." 

Dawn paled even further and fumbled through a curtsy while Hermione smirked. 

"Lady Dagoworth-Granger, this is Dawn Smith, she is one of Mr. James' managers and often works on his public image."

Hermione arched her brow before inclining her head slightly at the women before she turned to Harry, "If this is who represents you in public, you may want to rethink your management contracts. She's not doing you any favors with her airs and attitude."

Harry nodded, his mouth slightly dry from the formal titles Alex had used to introduce her. "When did you take your title?"

"After…" she paused, biting her lip before continuing, "just after." 

"Heiress of the House of Ross?"

"I'm Minierva's heir," she said with a shrug of her shoulder. "Did you know that title has a seat on the House of Lords as well? Kingsley was thrilled."

"I just bet he was."

"What?" began Alex looking from Hermione to Harry. "How do you two know each other?"

Hermione sighed. "We went to school together," she replied slowly, maintaining eye contact with Alex as she spoke. 

"You went to school, but then that means," Alex's gaze returned to Harry, and his eyes widened comically. "You're not. He's not." He turned to Harry. "You're THE Harry."

Harry flushed slightly. "I'm sorry I don't know who you are."

"He was a couple of years behind us," replied Hermione. "One of Sprout's."

Harry nodded in understanding. Then offered his hand, "Well then it's nice to meet you, officially, I suppose."

"You as well," Alex replied, shaking it firmly. 

He turned to Hermione, who promptly held her hand up. "NO. You cannot print that; you cannot print any of it - in either magazine. He's remained anonymous by his own wish, and you cannot just out him like that."

Alex sighed dramatically before nodding. "But perhaps just you know a couple of questions from the two of you together?" he licked his lips. "You are you, and he is still famous here."

Hermione met Harry's eyes and raised her brow in question. Harry shrugged. "As long as we get approval and yes, I would appreciate it if you would not include it in multiple outlets. 

"Well, that worked out well," interjected Dawn, finding her voice again, "I'll just leave you three here then for 20 minutes or so shall I, and then we can move to the recording booth for a bit of video and a cover? How does that sound?" 

Harry tried to hide his laugh behind a cough as Hermione rolled her eyes.

Alex waited for her to leave and then looked between them with a gleeful smile. "I'm beyond thrilled I got tricked into this assignment today."

Hermione laughed at his enthusiasm, slid her arm through his, and led him back to the table. "Well, it's sure to be more entertaining than lunch last week, I'm just begging you to keep some things off the record." She gave him a pointed stare, and Alex instantly quelled. 

"Yes, of course." 

Harry slid back into the chair across from them, and when he met her eyes, winked. This was the Hermione that he had missed. 

🎶🎶🎶

_if I just lay here_

_if I just lay here_

_we don't need_

_anything_

_or anyone_

_if I lay here_

_if I just lay here_

_would you lay with me_

_and just forget the world_

_I don't quite know_

_how to say_

_how I feel_

_those three words_

_are said too much_

_but not enough_

_if I lay here_

_if I just lay here_

_would you lay with me_

_and just forget the world_

_forget what we're told_

_before we get too old_

_show me your garden_

_that's bursting into life_

_let's waste time_

_chasing cars_

_around our heads_

_I need your grace_

_to read remind me_

_to find my own_

_if I lay here**_

Hermione stood in the sound booth next to Alex, listening to Harry sing. It felt intensely intimate despite the number of people in the room. She had been surprised by the song choice when Dawn had given it, but Harry had merely shrugged, saying he could do it. His bandmates had introduced themselves to Hermione, and if they ribbed Harry about recognizing her from the concert, they made no mention of it within her earshot. 

_if I just lay here_

_would you lay with me_

_and just forget the world_

_forget what we're told_

_before we get too old_

_show me your garden_

_that's bursting into life_

_all that I am_

_all that I ever was_

_is here in your perfect eyes_

_there all that I can see_

_I don't know where_

_confuse about how as well_

_just know these things will never change for us at all_

_if I lay here_

_if I just lay here_

_would you lay with me_

_and just forget the world_

Harry sang the words to her, and she couldn't help but smile, listening to his voice. He indeed was talented, but as she stood there listening, the lyrics of the song crashed over her like a memory. As she heard him sing, she felt like she was slipping in between two worlds. Magical and Muggle, reality and fiction, lyrics, and real life.

laying in the grass in the Burrow

beaten

broken

betrayed

defeated

victorious

so many feelings and emotions

overwhelmed

so overwhelmed

Harry laying by her side

staring at the sky

the clouds above them

his hand in hers

and tears streaming down his cheeks

grieving

tired

defeated

victorious

it was so much

"I love you" she whispered

"you did so well

i'm so proud of you

it's okay Harry

It's okay. 

It's over."

his hand in hers

his body battered

his spirit broken

his heart aching

grieving

tired

defeated

victorious

the boy who lived

the man who conquered

the one who vanquished 

She swallowed around the memory

around the crashing waves of the panic attack threatening the corners of her mind

her eyes glassy

tears pooling

his voice rushing over here

_will you lay here with me_

_forget what we're told_

_before we get too old_

_show me your garden_

_that's bursting into life_

she met his eyes

chocolate falling into jade

_all that I am_

_all that I ever was_

_here in your perfect eyes_

_there all that I can see_

she hiccuped slightly

confused

hurting

frustrated

tired

"I love you" she mouthed

his lips twitched

the smile playing at his lips

the music fading and she can see him saying it back

the way he did that day

the way he had before he left her

before he left her

the words stuttered in her brain

The panic pushed in 

There would be no way to stop it

"Breathe Mi Breathe"

Draco's voice

In and out

In and out

She looked for Harry

He was gone

Gone again

The room pushed in

"Breathe, Mi breathe."

Theo's voice

"Hold on" she heard

But was it real

She couldn't tell

before she could fall apart

before it could all come crashing down again

Before she lost what was real and what wasn't

he was there

Harry. Her Harry.

holding her

whispering to her

pushing past people

his people

waving his hand

telling them later

moving her forward and away

pulling her into a room and shutting the door

she can hear her name in his mouth

see his lips moving

but she can't hear him.

Harry held her. He was trying to figure out what to do when he felt the warm bracelet on her wrist. A moment later, he felt something in her pocket buzz and pulled out the communication mirror she had used the day before.

He was immediately met with a panicked Draco who eyed him suspiciously. "Where is she?"

"Here," replied Harry, turning the mirror so Draco could see Hermione. Her arms were wrapped around herself, and she was rocking.

"You have to ground her, Potter. She's in the midst of a panic attack. Fuck it, tell me where you are. I'll be right there-"

"No," replied Harry firmly. "I'm here with her. Just tell me what to do."

Draco looked as if he was going to resist for a moment before he nodded. "Turn the mirror so she can see us, both. Follow my instructions. It's important you don't go all Gryffindor and deviate from the plan right now, do you understand? This is about her."

"Got it," replied Harry swallowing.

"Hermione," snapped Draco. His voice sounded unnecessarily harsh to Harry's untrained ears, but Hermione's eyes immediately moved to the mirror. "Real, Hermione. REAL. I'm real. Look at Potter - Harry. He's there in front of you."

"Real?" she whispered uncertainly.

"Real," replied Harry, gripping her hand. "I'm real, Hermione. I'm right here."

"Hermione. 5 4 3 2 1. Love. Look around 5 4 3 2 1."

"5 4 3 2 1?" asked Harry, forgetting Draco's instructions.

"Name five things you can see. Four things you can touch. Three things you can hear. Two things you can smell. One thing you can taste," Hermione replied automatically.

"Good girl," encouraged Draco. "Five. Five things you can see, love. What do you see?"

Hermione's eyes darted around the room. "Real real real," she chanted to herself. 

Taking a breath, she spoke again," I see the sun shining out the window. 

I see flowers that need some water." her eyes moved about the room, "I see pictures of famous people - is that the Beatles?" Harry nodded. "I see blue wallpaper with birds." Her eyes met Harry's. "I see your eyes, and I see YOU and not your mother."

Harry blushed as Draco scoffed. "Good girl, Granger. That's five. What can you touch, love? Tell me four things you can touch."

Licking her lips, Hermione immediately dug into a hidden pocket in her dress, "I feel my spare wand in my pocket. I feel my bracelet on my arm. It's hot."

"Yes, that's why I called love," Draco told her softly. 

"Two more," added Harry, smiling tenderly at her. 

"I can touch my mirror even though my hand is shaking."

"Real," confirmed Draco.

She met Harry's eyes and leaned her face into the palm he had been using to stroke her cheek. "I can feel Harry's hand on my cheek."

"Real," confirmed Harry with a nod.

"I can feel-"

"That's four Granger," Draco told her, cutting her off. "That's good. You're doing so good, love. Can you breathe for me? In and out, Granger. In and out."

Hermione nodded. She was breathing to the rhythm Draco sets. Harry followed her, breathing in and out as she did. After a few moments of breathing, Draco asked her to continue. "What can you hear, love? Can you tell me three things you can hear?"

"I-I…" she took another deep breath. "I can hear my blood rushing through my ears." 

"Something else, love…"

She leaned into Harry, dipping slightly to fit her head against his chest. "I can hear Harry's heartbeat." 

"Good," breathed Draco. Harry moved the mirror, and their eyes met. "Nice and steady." Harry nodded, unsure if the blonde was talking to him or her. 

"I-I can't hear anything else," whispered Hermione, and Harry could hear the panic building again.

Taking a deep breath, Harry began to sing softly in her ear.

Draco just raised his brow like really, and Harry shrugged. Hermione sighed, and Harry rubbed her back in slow circles. Taking as much comfort in the woman in his arms as he hoped he was giving.

"What's next?" He asked against her ear.

"Something I can smell," she replied, her voice partially muffled against his chest.

"What do you smell?" asked Harry.

"You," she breathed. "You smell like the Forest of Dean and ozone and home." She bit her lip as he sucked in a breath. "Though your breath smells like curry."

Harry flushed. "Sorry."

Draco cleared his throat, pretending not to notice. "The only thing left is taste."

Harry looked around worriedly. "I don't know if there's anything in here to taste. There's someone's coffee cup, but I don't know how long it's been there-"

He stopped talking as he felt Hermione's lips upon his neck. Followed by her tongue and her teeth. Harry took a shuddery breath.

"Did she find something?" asked Draco.

Harry cleared his throat, trying to tamp down the blush across his face, "Yeah."

He tilted the mirror so Draco could see Hermione kissing his jaw, and Draco huffed. 

"Hermione Jean, don't you dare sleep with him."

Hermione pulled back from Harry to look at her mirror.

"No promises," she replied with a smirk." Love you," she added before closing the mirror with a click.

"Does that mean you're better?" asked Harry after a pause.

"Yes," Hermione replied solemnly, "Thank you."

Harry nodded. "Can I ask…" his voice drifted, and he pulled her body closer to his for a moment, soaking in her warmth.

"You want to know what caused it? The panic attack."

Harry nodded. "I wasn't sure if that's what it was."

"Yeah," she replied. "They come and go. It's unusual to have them two days in a row these days but…." she cleared her throat. "You were singing, and I was thinking about being at the Burrow. Do you remember? Laying in the grass together after the war."

Harry nodded. "I dream about that day a lot."

"When you were singing, it was like the two pieces came together. Like it was just yesterday that we were laying in the grass together. Not a decade later."

Harry nodded, feeling tears dampen his lashes. 

"You left me," she said, suddenly stepping back so their eyes could meet. "You just left me, and I got overwhelmed in the memory that you left and the fear that you weren't real anymore. That this wasn't real."

Pulling her close to his body, he held her as large sobs wracked her body. He deserved this, he knew. He had hurt her so deeply. Hurt his best friend. He had left her. He had done it purposely. 

"You left," she whispered, damp eyes looking up accusingly. "You left me. You didn't say goodbye. You promised you'd never do it again, and you did. You weren't supposed to leave me too. You were supposed to take me with you."

Harry swallowed, his mouth dry, his tongue heavy in his mouth. "I wanted to," he said at last. "So badly - you have no idea."

"I have an idea," she countered, "A very good one. I looked for you," she accused her fingertip, digging into his sternum. "For five years, solid."

Harry winced, "I'm sorry, Mi."

"No." The single word was said firmly. Harshly. Angrily. Harry could feel the air stir with her feelings. Her magic noticeably drifted on her skin in a way it hadn't the entire time he'd known her. It was powerful and tangible, and he was more ashamed than he had been of anything he has ever done in his entire life. 

"Why?" she demanded.

He ran a hand through his hair and felt the weight of the last ten years settle upon him. He felt his magic stirring in a way he'd never known. Harry felt frustrated, tired, and defeated all at once. He met her eyes again and had a moment of hesitation as he wondered if he could be victorious. At this moment, when it mattered the most. The stakes never changed at all. He needed her. He had always needed her. Leaving her had been the hardest thing he had done. He did it once to save her. The second time - he did it to save himself.

"I was a coward," he confessed, allowing his magic to drift. He expected it to be repelled, expected her to reject him, as the words tumbled out of his mouth, "I didn't think you would come with me."

"When have I ever not come with you," she demanded. Her aura flared, and if he hadn't been standing next to her, he was sure he'd have fallen over from the display. She looked like a goddess, her hair large and crackling around her head as she huffed at him. Her finger continued to stab at his sternum. "I always pick you."

"I didn't want you to pick me for that reason."

"For what reason? I would follow you anywhere - I did follow you anywhere."

"And look at what it did to you!" he exclaimed, at last, throwing his hands up as he stepped away from that damn sharp finger. He rubbed his sternum, even as he felt her magic refuse to let him move too far away. "Look at what we lost, Mi. I couldn't do that to you again."

"Why? You had no right! You didn't even ask me," she yelled, and he felt the magic snap taut between them. 

"I know," he whispered, accepting her magic against his skin. He felt it rush around him, and he welcomed it, welcomed the feel of her: even the anger, the justifiable outrage. "I know," he repeated, "I think about it. Think about you. I have a hole here, you know? Where you used to be. Being without you some days, it was like being without a limb."

The magic in the room swelled for a moment as she processed his words, he felt it ebb softly as her words drifted across the space between them, "Would you do it again?"

"Do what again?" he asked wearily, leaning against the desk in the room.

"Leave me again?"

"No," he whispered with a shake of his head. "Never. I suck without you. I need you too much. I'm selfish," he added, licking his lips. "I need you, and if I had the chance, I don't think I could ever let you go again. You mean too much to me."

Hermione nodded before closing the distance between them. Harry set his hands against the desk as she stood in front of him. Her hair wild and free. Her magic was giving her a radiant ethereal glow. She was everything he had ever wanted in his life, and he knew it. 

"Okay"

Harry snapped back to the present and met her deep brown eyes in confusion. "Okay?"

"Okay," she replied with a shy smile, stepping into his orbit. Her magic caressed him again, soft and supple, inviting and encouraging. She placed her palms flat on his chest, and Harry shuddered as he put his hands upon her hips, hearing the lyrics from the song flow around them.

_I need your grace_

_to remind me_

_to find my own_

_if I lay here_

_if I just lay here_

_would you lay with me and just forget the world_

"Yes," she replied, leaning forward, answering the question he had inadvertently sung aloud. Harry grinned as he cupped the back of her head, pulling her lips to his. Hermione sighed in pleasure as their lips connected, and his magic wrapped around her as his arms tightened, and he deepened the kiss further.   
  


**FIN**

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


> A/N
> 
> * "(Everything I Do) I Do it For You" by Bryan Adams
> 
> ** "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol
> 
>   
> The scenes written more as poetry vs narrative are intentional. I was incredibly overwhelmed during a sprint listening to "Chasing Cars" on repeat, and after much back and forth, decided to leave some moments how I originally wrote them - I wanted to show Hermione slipping into her panic attack and the way worlds bleed together during those moments. If you've ever had a panic or anxiety attack, you may understand more of what I was aiming for in those moments.
> 
> The 5 4 3 2 1 technique is one I use personally. It works not just during panic or anxiety attacks, but in times of turmoil as a way to ground yourself or even as a daily gratitude practice. 💖

**Author's Note:**

> **Your comment and kudos are appreciated. May you find your anchor and support in these uncertain times, and continue to stay safe.**


End file.
